


Softly-Spoken Lies

by MercuryShep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Death Eaters, Fidelius Charm (Harry Potter), First War with Voldemort, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), POV Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryShep/pseuds/MercuryShep
Summary: Remus can’t sleep.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Softly-Spoken Lies

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first angst fic so let me know if it's not angsty enough, thanks

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t sleep.

Remus had been so anxious in these past few weeks that he felt he could double over at any moment, capsized by the slightest breeze or a simple tap on the shoulder. To steady him was Sirius Black, his best friend, his partner, the love of his life, who slept beside him in a tangle of blankets and unpinned hair.

Always, since they were barely more than children, Sirius was there for him. When Remus was new to Hogwarts, the mysterious and quiet boy who never stood up to his bullies, Sirius was there. Although he never admitted it, Remus knew that he was the cause of all the strange circumstances the bullies found themselves in over the year, like their robes being suddenly full of ants or the replacement of their voices in their mouths by the squawking of a rooster. The sheer confidence to do such a thing and the cleverness to get away with it was what inspired Remus to finally speak to Sirius and his friend James, becoming fast friends and quickly blossoming into a formidable mischief-maker himself. During year three, he could see in Peter what Sirius saw in Remus back then, that potential to become more self-assured as he made friends and to perform some awesome pranks along the way. Then the three became four, and the four became the Marauders.

The descent from friend into something more was fast, much faster than Remus expected. It was an accidental brush of fingers while walking from back to the castle from Herbology class. It was a look into his thoughtful grey eyes that lasted a little too long. It was a light, experimental kiss hidden under the blankets in Sirius’s bed. It was the rigorous, impassioned removal of one another’s clothes in an unused restroom stall during the quieter hours of the day, ramped by the adrenaline of getting caught or the tingling rush of blood to his lower half or the emotions underlying it that they were both too young and confused to verbalize while navigating puberty.

But they were more than lost teenagers now. They were two men, properly in love and unafraid to express it. They were a half-blood and a pure-blood, an animagus and a werewolf, a member of the Order of The Phoenix and a spy for the Death Eaters, in love against all odds.

At least, that was what Remus assumed.

There was a rumor going around that someone close to the Potters was a spy. With tensions as high as they were, with the Dark Lord looming within every dark corner and across every horizon, Remus thought Lily and James couldn’t have picked a worse time to bring a child into the world. But he was supportive all the same, willing to protect his closest friends and their little one from all harm. So when he caught wind that Voldemort was going to target James and Lily, when he heard that there was some sort of prophecy involving them, he understood exactly what was going on. 

Sirius was never considered the brightest student in Hogwarts. In fact he was usually labelled as the troublemaker, often the target of heavy sighs and groans of disapproval as Gryffindor was routinely deducted House Points by his doing. But out of the four of them, Sirius was the most cunning Marauder of all. He had been the mastermind behind many of the long-haul pranks they pulled over the years, including the time he had summoned an absolutely enormous mound of rotting fish to the Room of Requirement that took professor Dumbledore  _ weeks _ to find and discard.

That cunning was exactly what Remus feared now — the reason he slept with his wand beneath his pillow at night. If Sirius was planning something, no one would know. He was so good at letting lies roll off his tongue and it was so easy to get lost in his eyes as he spoke. So no matter how many times he denied it, it had to be him. It had to be Sirius. 

Of anything that was known about the Potters, the given was that the Marauders were their closest friends. That meant that if the rumor was that a traitor was “close to the Potters”, it had to be one of them. Remus knew it wasn’t himself, so that left only Sirius and Peter. Peter was simply too smart to be influenced by Voldemort. Sure, Sirius was smart too, but Peter was resourceful and calculating in ways to which none of them could compare. So all who remained was Sirius.

It made sense, really, for him to be the spy. The Dark Lord was known for recruiting former Slytherins to his side, and everyone in Sirius’s family was a Slytherin. Sirius’s cousin Bellatrix was a known Death Eater and it was rumored that even his younger brother Regulus had turned to the dark side. It was only a matter of time before they got him too. Whether it was by peer pressure, by torture, or by blackmail, Remus knew that they had recruited him somehow. The possibility that Sirius could have joined them voluntarily turned his stomach so hard that he could barely stand to even think of it, but it  _ was  _ a possibility all the same.

“What are you thinking, love?” Sirius’s voice came in a groggy, low rumble that wasn’t much more than a whisper, followed by the warmth of his arm reaching across Remus’s chest. 

Remus didn’t look at him, instead just staring up at the darkness of the ceiling as he felt his chest tighten. It hurt to be so close to Sirius, yet feel so distant from him. He nearly felt like tearing up every time he heard his voice these days, tendrils of betrayal and mistrust creeping into every conversation. For only a moment he was grounded by the touch of Sirius’s calloused fingertips idly tracing across his scars before a second wave of anxiety came crashing down upon him. 

“I heard something about a Fidelius Charm,” he murmured, blinking into the darkness. There was a long pause, followed by a heavy sigh from Sirius’s nose.

“Yeah.”

For a moment he wondered if he should press on in his questioning, content to instead take in the warmth of his lover beside him and think of nothing else. But the deep, dark curiosity still gnawed at the edges of his mind.

“Be honest, Sirius,” he began, rolling over now to meet Sirius’s face, “Do you know who the Secret Keeper is?” His gaze darted back and forth across Sirius’s sharp features, his deep-set eyes, the thin corner of his lips, his prominent brow and nose, searching for any hint of the truth in his expression.

“No, I don’t know who it is. Maybe Dumbledore.”

A lie, so easily drawn forth, so expertly masked. Remus felt the icy grip on his heart only tighten.

“Maybe,” he croaked, rolling back onto his back to stare at the ceiling again. His throat burned and his eyes stung as tears threatened to spill over onto his cheeks.

It was an expert plan, if he was honest. Take James Potter’s most trusted friend in the world, the godfather to the Potters’ child, and turn him into a Death Eater. James was simply too loyal, too trusting, to ever suspect a thing from Sirius. When they went into hiding, they would make Sirius into their Secret Keeper, and Sirius would take their secrets straight to Voldemort. In Remus’s opinion, it wasn’t a question of if, but when.

He felt some awkward shuffling beside him followed by Sirius’s hand on his bare shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “Remus,” Sirius began, and Remus could feel his gaze burning into him but refused to meet his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Swallowing back his tears, Remus replied in a cracked whisper. “Yes.”

Another lie, unveiled and bare, clumsy and shaking. A lie that was easier to believe than dispute. A lie that was easy to swallow. They both rolled it across their tongues, tasting it, bittersweet, before swallowing it like a dry pill. It had a horrible aftertaste. It made them both sick.

“Good,” came Sirius’s throaty murmur again. The pressure of Remus’s lungs about to burst was counterbalanced then by Sirius’s head as he placed his cheek to Remus’s chest. “I love you.”

The truth, this time. Fragile, beautiful, and so very painful.

“I love you too.”

For the rest of that night, nothing else was said. It was easier to reminisce in the innocence of their childhood than to wallow in the deep pit of tomorrow. It felt better to hold Sirius's hand and idly tousle his hair than to contemplate turning him in. He preferred to sleep soundly than to stay awake stirring. So, for tonight, in this home there were no Death Eaters, no Order, no traitors, no spies, no plotting, no war. In this bed there was only the warmth of a shared caress, two rhythms of gentle, drowsy breathing, and the comfort of softly-spoken lies.


End file.
